


Whom can we trust now?

by bennyboyTallmadge



Series: platonic!Washette [8]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, October 1780, Treason, inspired by the delected Scene from TURN, platonic!Washette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyboyTallmadge/pseuds/bennyboyTallmadge
Summary: October 1780: As Arnold's treason is discovered, Lafayette consoles a devastated Washington.
Relationships: Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/George Washington
Series: platonic!Washette [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/836010
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69





	Whom can we trust now?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! After more than 2 years, I finally found the time to finish a story I started writing a long time ago. I am really sorry it took me that long and I hope that many of those who read my previous stories are still on board! 
> 
> This story was inspired by a deleted scene from AMC's TURN, in which Lafayette consoles Washington after they discover Arnold's treason. You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Hq8ICeXszg
> 
> Enjoy, and as always I'm happy about Kudos and some feedback.

_ Lafayette had barely arranged his clothes when Hamilton broke in and told him to go to Washington at once. He rushed into the front room, where he found his adoptive father standing in the middle, the papers Hamilton had given him shaking in his hand. He was in tears. “Arnold has betrayed us!” he cried. “Whom can we trust now?”  _ (David A. Clary,  _ Adopted Son _ , p.280)

The breakfast Lafayette enjoyed at General Benedict Arnold’s house at West Point was the best one he could remember having in a long time. Even for a Major-General, the meals the army provided could be quite sparse from time to time, and thus, Lafayette was grateful for the variety of foods that Mrs. Arnold and her servants had prepared for their guests. He had spent the past three days on horseback, traveling to the fort from the town of Hartford, where he and Washington had attended a council with their French allies, the Comte de Rochambeau and the Chevalier de Terney. Lafayette had taken on the role of translator during the council, since both Washington and the Frenchmen were unable to understand each other’s languages well enough to establish a productive conversation. Although the meeting had, owing to the problems in communication between the parties, taken longer than usual, the outcome had been quite pleasing: The Americans and the French had agreed on almost all points they had discussed, first and foremost that is was crucial to plead for more troops and supplies at the French court. They had parted feeling optimistic about their joint campaign, with the French quite impressed with General Washington’s demeanor and opinions. No wonder, Lafayette mused – Washington had an inexplicable talent to make whoever he met admire and respect him. 

After an exhausting week of traveling and councils, Lafayette was glad to now be finally able to take a break, be it only for a day. Washington, who was sitting at the head of the table next to Lafayette, appeared to feel in a similar way. The Marquis knew how troubled his friend’s mind had been for the past weeks with sorrows concerning the French and the still frail alliance between their two countries. There had been many evenings Lafayette had spent at Washington’s quarters, discussing possible outcomes of the negotiations with the French, assuring him that his countrymen would not desert the Americans. From time to time, Lafayette had felt obliged to distract the General from his worries, by talking about topics unrelated to the war, for example about how he would visit Washington’s beloved Mount Vernon some time in the future. The thought of his farm almost never failed to provide Washington with more pleasant thoughts and Lafayette was glad that he had found a topic that would calm his friend’s temper. Now, after the successful council with Rochambeau and Ternay, Washington seemed to have relaxed for the first time in weeks. He was engaged in conversations with the aides sharing the breakfast with them, and Lafayette had even heard him chuckle quietly about a joke Hamilton had told. When Washington became aware that Lafayette had been looking at him for several seconds, the general gave him a little smile. 

“Is everything alright, Marquis?” he inquired. “You have been unusually quiet this morning.” 

“Oh, yes, it is but the exhaustion of the past days which makes me remain silent. We can all use a few hours of relaxation, no?” Lafayette reciprocated Washington’s smile and reached for another slice of bread. It was bitter irony that in the moment Lafayette closed his mouth, the shrill scream of a woman resounded from upstairs. Startled, he put his bread back into the bowl he had just taken it from, and exchanged a questioning glance with Washington. 

“Did you hear this, too?” Lafayette asked him, to assure that his mind was not playing tricks on him. Washington nodded, putting down his knife. 

“Maybe a servant dropped something,” Hamilton suggested with his mouth half-full, not appearing too worried. “I am sure that Mrs. Arnold will take care of whatever just happened.”

Washington nodded, though the slightly concerned expression did not vanish from his face when he resumed eating. Exhaling deeply, Lafayette, too, decided to continue with his breakfast, even though a strange feeling in his gut told him that the scream from upstairs meant nothing good. Could one not even enjoy a single meal in peace? Not even five minutes later, the group was disturbed again, this time by rapid and loud steps on the nearby stairs. This time, every man at the table stopped eating and turned toward the door. Then, General Arnold rushed into the room, appearing distressed, with his braid undone and his waistcoat only halfway buttoned. Hectically, he grabbed his overcoat from the chair he had left it on, almost forgetting to greet his guests. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he then added, just before turning to leave the room. Washington was quick to rise to his feet and cut off the general’s way. 

“Benedict, what is the meaning of this?” he inquired, speaking in a low voice, to prevent everyone at the table from listening, but Lafayette was able to hear his concerned tone anyway. He watched the two generals attentively, and noticed that Arnold’s right hand was trembling heavily, although he tried to suppress the spasms by clenching his fingers into a fist. 

“Just a – an urgent letter from camp, a surprise inspection, apparently,” Arnold replied, attempting a smile which looked more like a pained grimace. Washington, however, appeared satisfied with his answer. “Alright then,” he said, stepping back. “We shall surely see each other at dinner.” Arnold merely nodded and then turned on his heels to leave the room. The men heard the front door open and fall shut, while they sat in silence, not sure what to make of the situation they had just witnessed. Washington returned to the table to continue eating. It was surprising to Lafayette that his friend did not appear to be overly concerned about Arnold’s unusual behavior. He knew that the two generals had been friends for several years and that Washington trusted Arnold like he trusted only a few other generals. Still, Arnold’s conduct had, in Lafayette’s eyes, been very strange, even somewhat suspicious, though he could not put a finger on what is was that he suspected the general of. 

The relaxed and even somewhat joyful mood from earlier had disappeared from the breakfast table. The men finished their plates in silence, with only a few occasional coughs interrupting the tense quietness. Finally, Washington rose from his chair and nodded at the men. 

“Gentlemen, if you will excuse me now, I will tend to some paperwork. You may spend the day as you see fit, after the strains of the past days you have earned yourself a few peaceful hours. I would be delighted to see you all in the evening, Mrs. Arnold has promised to prepare dinner for her guests.” 

He gave Lafayette a small, barely visible smile, briefly touching his shoulder as he walked past him. Lafayette reciprocated his smile. He had grown accustomed to the subtle signs of affection his friend offered him, and he appreciated them greatly, knowing that Washington was not a man who liked to openly convey his sentiments. In contrast to Lafayette, who, owing to the customs of his home country, was used to touching people and openly expressing his affections for people dear to him, Washington usually wore a mask of stoicism, not letting anyone read his emotions and certainly not allowing the physical touch of another person. Over the course of their friendship, the general had learned to accept Lafayette’s way of showing affection and he even had begun to offer slight touches or even occasional hugs to his adoptive son. Lafayette took this as a good sign, after he had initially feared to have overwhelmed Washington with his open display of affection. 

Lafayette left the breakfast table soon after Washington. He, too, had some unanswered letters that demanded his attention and he intended to finish his paperwork before afternoon, so he could spend some time with his friend Hamilton. Time was a rare good during a war, and Lafayette wanted to use every second of his leisure to talk to his friends whom he did not spend anywhere near enough time with. Upstairs in his assigned room, he took off his coat and loosened his neck cloth before he took a seat at the wooden desk. Sighing, he opened the first letter, a report on a supply convoy being sent to camp. Good news indeed, but he was distracted today by the sunny weather outside, and he thought to himself that he would rather be outside right now, enjoying the last rays of the warm autumn sun before the cold and dark months already lurking at the horizon would descend upon the land once again and bring nothing but death and bitterness. Lafayette shook his head when he noticed that his thoughts were becoming too sentimental. He forced himself to focus on the task ahead and this time, he succeeded. The hours of noon passed as he wrote his orders and answered letters. When he finally looked up to check the clock on the wall on the opposite side of the room, is was already half past three in the afternoon. 

Sighing, Lafayette folded the letter he had been working on and decided to put it aside for now. Maybe he would come back to finish his work after dinner, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the good weather and a few hours of relaxation. He retrieved his coat from the hanger next to the door and went downstairs, hoping to encounter Hamilton there. His friend was nowhere to be found, it seemed, at least not inside the house. Lafayette decided to go for a walk, figuring it would be useful to make himself familiar with the fort and its surroundings. He closed his eyes for a second when he stepped outside, enjoying the warm rays of sunshine on his face. 

“Ah, I see Monsieur de Lafayette has finally discovered the sunlight,” a nearby voice mocked him and Lafayette turned around with a grin when he recognized it. Hamilton was sitting on a bench in front of the side entrance, a stack of papers next to him and a wooden board which he was apparently using as a makeshift table resting on his knees. The cocky grin on his face showed that the sunny weather had not failed to bring him into a good mood. 

“And I see that Monsieur Hamilton has come up with a more pleasant way than I have to finish his paperwork,” Lafayette replied and walked over to his friend. Hamilton quickly moved his papers to make space for Lafayette on the bench. Lafayette sat down next to him and leaned back, stretching his legs and enjoying the autumn breeze.

“I should have come here earlier,” he mused and Hamilton chuckled in response. They remained like this for several minutes, a comfortable silence stretching between them, only interrupted by the sound of Hamilton’s quill scratching on the paper. 

“Any news from Arnold?” Lafayette finally asked, remembering the general’s hasty exit this morning. 

Hamilton shook his head. “No, nothing, he still has not returned to the house, I would have seen him if he had. Quite a long surprise inspection if you ask me,” he said, his tone leaving no doubt that he had been more confused by Arnold’s strange behavior than he had shown earlier. 

Lafayette hummed in response. “Something was strange about him, no?”

“I had the same feeling,” Hamilton replied. His eyes briefly wandered over the lawn in front of the house before he returned his attention to his paper. “Let us hope that our feeling is mistaken and that nothing is off.”

They fell silent once again. Lafayette was unsure whether the fact that Hamilton had been disconcerted by Arnold’s behavior as well should calm or disturb him. 

“Have you seen Washington?” he asked his friend, after noticing that the General appeared to be absent, too. 

“Yes, he returned an hour ago. I briefly spoke to him when I handed him some dispatches that a courier gave to me in his absence.” Hamilton signed the report he was working on and placed it on top of the stack next to him. “My hand hurts,” he complained and drew a grimace.

“Well then it is time to allow yourself a little break, _mon ami,_ ” Lafayette advised him with a fond smile, well knowing that a break was a foreign concept to Hamilton’s mind. 

Hamilton chuckled quietly. “I need another pot of ink,” he then announced, and rose from the bench to make his way back inside the house. Lafayette shook his head as he leaned back against the wood, still smiling. He enjoyed the simple, meaningless banter with Hamilton. It was far too often that they had to discuss serious issues and lacked the time for more lighthearted conversation. 

Hamilton remained gone for quite some time and Lafayette slowly began to wonder what was taking him that long. Had he not said that he only wanted to get ink? Lafayette was just about to get up and enter the house to search for Hamilton, when suddenly he heard loud voices and rapid footsteps from inside. He stopped in his tracks and tried to discern whom the voices belonged to and what they were discussing. When he recognized Washington’s voice, Lafayette’s slight concern intensified. It took quite a lot to cause the General to raise his voice, and it almost never was a good sign. Lafayette was still contemplating on whether or not to go inside and investigate on the matter, when the door opened and Hamilton stepped outside, his breath labored as though he had been running. 

“Hamilton, is everything alright? I heard-” Lafayette began, but he was interrupted by Hamilton grabbing him by his upper arm and pulling him inside the house. “What are you doing, is-” he tried again but he was silenced by his friend once again. 

“Arnold’s a traitor,” Hamilton blurted out, finally letting go of Lafayette’s arm. 

“What do you mean, ‘a traitor’?” Lafayette asked, although the word did not leave much space for interpretation. Maybe he was hoping that he had misunderstood Hamilton, since what he had just heard sounded too horrible to be true. 

“He turned on us, this bastard! Gave the plans of the fort away to some British officer for cash and the promise of a field command!” Lafayette could not remember ever seeing Hamilton as enraged as he was in this very moment, and that meant a lot. He could only stare at Hamilton in disbelief. Lafayette had sensed that something had not been quite right with Arnold this morning, but never in a hundred years would he have suspected this. 

“This damned fool…,” he mumbled, still unable to wrap his mind around what Hamilton had told him. “We need to send men after him! We cannot let him get away!” he then exclaimed, when the realization of what had happened finally caused red, hot anger to rise inside him. 

“Washington has already sent out orders to Wayne and Green to secure the fort and take command,” Hamilton said, “they will make sure to assemble a search party.” 

Until now, too caught up in the shock of learning of Arnold’s treason, Lafayette had not thought of Washington. When Hamilton mentioned him, however, he closed his eyes in defeat, knowing too well the effect these horrible news would have on his adoptive father. 

“Where is he? I need to see him,” he demanded, the urgency in his voice unconcealed. 

“I left him in the front room,” Hamilton replied, already walking in the direction of said room. “He ordered me to get you,” he added. Lafayette followed Hamilton who went ahead with hurried steps. They found Washington standing in the middle of the room, the letter of intelligence he had received still in his hand. The paper was trembling, as was the hand holding it. When he noticed Hamilton and Lafayette entering the room, Washington lifted his eyes from the letter. The grief and shock was written onto the General’s usually stoic face, and that made Lafayette’s heart ache even more than Arnold’s treason did. Washington appeared unusually small all of the sudden, his presence shrunk by the weight of betrayal pressing on his shoulders. Lafayette was unsure of what to do, of how to handle this unprecedented situation and shared a quick glance with Hamilton, who seemed to harbor similar feelings. 

Deciding that lingering on the doorstep would not be of any help, Lafayette approached Washington and reached out for the paper in his friend’s hand. For some reason, he had to read for himself what had happened, or otherwise he would not be able to fully believe it. Washington let go of the letter wordlessly. Lafayette quickly skimmed over it. Seeing proof of Arnold’s treason on paper made him feel nauseous and incredibly angry at once. Apparently, a British officer had been captured by local militia, carrying confidential papers and a passage certificate signed by Arnold himself. The man had sold his loyalty and his cause for a few thousand dollars and the vague expectation of a command he had not been given in the Continental Army. Lafayette’s first instinct was to rip the letter into a thousand pieces, however, he knew better than to conduct himself in such a childish manner. 

As he looked up from the paper, he noticed that Washington was looking at him with a mixture of pain and desperation. The General did not even attempt to hide the redness and the wet shimmer in his eyes, and Lafayette could see his jaws clench with the effort of remaining composed. He felt as though Washington wanted to believe that, somehow, Lafayette could undo all that had happened in the past hours, judging from the expression he was regarding him with. Lafayette knew, however, that he could not do so, even though he would have done anything in his power to spare his friend the pain of one of his most trusted generals turning on him. But Arnold had made his decision, he was gone, and if he ever were to return to the patriot army, he was going to be in chains and not in a blue uniform. 

“Arnold has betrayed us.” 

Although Washington was only stating what had already been obvious, hearing him speak these words made the entire affair even more real to Lafayette, and the unconcealed pain in Washington’s voice made his chest ache with the desperate urge to do anything that would help to console his friend.

“Whom can we trust now?” he asked quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes roamed over Lafayette’s face as though the answer to his question was hidden there. Lafayette opened his mouth, but he, too, knew no response that would have offered Washington any consolation. Following his intuition, Lafayette stepped closer to him, firmly taking hold of his upper arms. He felt Washington shudder underneath his grip and saw how his eyes began to fill with tears. Somehow, Lafayette’s simple gesture of reassurance appeared to have shattered the last bit of composure Washington had left. Unable to bear the sight of seeing him cry, Lafayette pulled him into an embrace. At first, he felt Washington’s body stiffen, and he was afraid that he had overdone it, especially with Hamilton still present. Then, however, his embrace was returned with unexpected force. Washington wrapped his arms around Lafayette, heavily leaning against him. Exhaling shakily, he lowered his head onto Lafayette’s shoulder. The silent sobs shaking his adoptive father’s body shattered his heart like only few things had before. He wished there was more he could do to console Washington, but he knew that this betrayal was no wound to heal anytime soon. 

_I promise to never desert you,_ Lafayette swore in his mind, but he did not say it aloud. Washington already knew his loyalty to him was and would remain unconditional. Thus, he simply kept on embracing his friend until he had calmed down, glad that the embrace was able to conceal his own tears. 

***

When they sat down for dinner in the evening, the atmosphere was tense. Nothing was left of the relaxed, lighthearted mood from earlier that day. In the meantime, everyone present had learned of Arnold’s treason. Word had reached them that Generals Greene and Wayne had begun with securing the fort and that a search party had been sent out to find Arnold, in case he had not already reached enemy lines. Lafayette hoped they would be successful in catching the traitor. The anger inside him had not subsided, rather, it had increased with every hour since he had learned of what had happened. As much as he had valued Arnold as a General before he had become a turncoat, now he wanted nothing more than to see him court martialed. He had deserted his cause, his honor, and he had done great damage to both the Continental Army and Washington personally, and he would have to pay for what he had done. 

Earlier, they had confronted Mrs. Arnold with her husband’s treason. The poor woman had appeared to have lost her sanity upon learning the cause for his speedy departure in the morning. Either she had really been unaware of what her husband had been plotting in secrecy, or she was an excellent actress. Whatever the truth was, a servant had been ordered to take care of her and confine her to her bedroom for the time being. 

What worried Lafayette a lot more than Mrs. Arnold’s role in the plot, however, was Washington’s state. Although his friend had appeared at the dinner table, he did not seem quite like himself. His eyes were unmistakably red from the tears he had shed over Arnold’s treason and he had barely been touching the food in front of him. Lafayette and the others at the table knew better than to openly address the matter or to be too obvious in observing the General’s grieve, since none of them wanted to get yelled at by Washington. The glances Lafayette had exchanged with Hamilton, however, had told him that the aide, too, had noticed how badly Washington was coping with the situation.

Nobody spoke a word at the dinner table, and the sound of knifes and forks scratching over plates appeared absurdly loud. Lafayette, though usually blessed with a good appetite, did not feel like eating either. He had been chewing on the same piece of meat for over a minute now, and had he been alone and not in company, he would have spit it out a good while ago. 

Eventually, Washington was the first to push his half-full plate aside. He nodded at the other men at the table, careful not to look at any of them directly, and rose to his feet. 

“Good night, gentlemen,” he only said before he turned around and left the dining room, leaving Lafayette and the aides alone. Hamilton exhaled audibly, as soon as Washington was out of sight. 

“What a pity,” he mused, looking at the meal they had been looking forward to all day and that had now been spent in uncomfortable silence.

“I think I will retire to my room, as well,” Tench Tilghman said, and the other aides followed his example, glad that someone had taken the initiative to leave. That left Lafayette alone with Hamilton, who looked at him with a mixture of exhaustion and a forced smile. Lafayette stared at the candle in front of him, watching the small flame flicker every time he exhaled. This was not how he had imagined the evening to end. He had looked forward to a finally having some time to converse with Washington and the aides in a setting that was not a council, and he was incredibly angry at Arnold for depriving him of this opportunity. 

“You should go look after the old fox,” Hamilton said after a few minutes had passed in silent contemplation. Lafayette smiled briefly at his friend’s nickname for Washington. 

“Are you sure?” he then asked, unconsciously fidgeting with the seam of the the table cloth. “I had the impression he would not desire anyone’s company now.” Lafayette had thought about going after Washington earlier, but then he had been unsure whether his adoptive father wanted to see him.

Hamilton sighed and smiled at him. "If there is anyone he wants around now, it is you, _mon ami."_

Lafayette gave him a small smile in response. Sometimes it still was strange to him that a man like Washington would desire his company, and that he had somehow managed to become the General's favorite. 

Hamilton rose from the table and patted Lafayette on the shoulder as he walked past him. 

"Good night,” he said, suppressing a yawn, “see you tomorrow.” 

Lafayette watched his friend leave, slowly realizing how tired he was himself. Although it was not very late at night, the day had been mentally exhausting, and had it not been for Washington, Lafayette probably would have gone straight to bed. However, he considered it his duty as a friend and as the General’s adopted son to make sure that he was doing alright. 

He rose from the table and made his way up the stairs to their assigned rooms. Washington’s was located at the end of the corridor, since Mrs. Arnold had made sure that His Excellency would get assigned to the largest guest room available. Lafayette felt a strange sense of nervousness he did not usually feel when on his way to Washington. But today, everything was out of order, and for some reason, Lafayette feared that his friend would become angry with him for disturbing him instead of leaving him alone. On the other hand, Hamilton was probably right in what he had said earlier. It would not be the first time that Washington refused to talk to anyone but him when something troubled his mind. Hoping that his decision had been the right one, Lafayette knocked on the wooden door and waited for an answer. At first, he received none, and his heart sank. After he knocked for a second time, however, he heard a strained “Yes?”. He opened the unlocked door and took a step inside, lingering close to the doorstep. 

"May I come in?" Lafayette asked, giving Washington the chance to send him away in case he did not desire company. He found the General sitting at his desk, with his head resting in his hands. The only source of light in the room were the two candles burning to his right and left, and the flickering lights threw dark shadows onto Washington's face. He had taken off his coat which Lafayette found carelessly thrown over a nearby chair. 

When he heard Lafayette's voice, Washington raised his head. Even in the dim light, Lafayette could see that he had been crying. 

"Lafayette," he said, quickly wiping his damp cheeks, "you need not see me in such a state." 

Lafayette closed the door behind himself. Nobody needed to witness their conversation, especially considering the state Washington was in. The General was clearly embarrassed by Lafayette finding him in tears, although it was by far not the first time that one of them had cried in front of the other. They had shared all of the darkest moments of this war, and that had included comforting each other when emotions became too burdensome to conceal them any longer. 

Lafayette stepped closer, pulling a second chair closer to the desk across from Washington, but he did not sit down yet.

"I can leave if you wish to be-" he started, but Washington interrupted him with an almost fearful expression. 

"No, please, stay," he said, looking up at him with an expression Lafayette almost categorized as pleading. He lowered himself onto the chair, now that he was sure that Washington wanted him to be there. Wordlessly, Washington poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him. 

"What are you reading?" Lafayette asked, eyeing at the paper in front of his friend. Washington sighed and folded the letter to put it aside.

"It's nothing. Just an old man being sentimental," he said, trying to smile at Lafayette which failed miserably. Lafayette was unsure of what to respond, but luckily, Washington spoke up once again. 

"Arnold, he was...he was my friend. He used to write me letters of how much he valued me as a friend and general, how honored he felt to serve under my command and to fight for our country." 

Washington looked up at the ceiling as if that could prevent his eyes from filling with tears. Lafayette's chest ached at the sight. 

"And now, this man is wearing red, and he is fighting for the army he and I fought against side by side for years. I did what I could to make him stay, and still-" 

Lafayette flinched when Washington's fist hit the desk with a loud pang. He had never been afraid of Washington, and he was not afraid of him now, but seeing him angered was intimidating indeed. He was just about to say something when Washington jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth behind desk. Deciding it would be best not to interrupt him, Lafayette remained seated on chair, following his friend with his eyes. 

"I thought West Point would be enough to satisfy him. He knew that he could have never taken another field command with his leg! And still, he blamed me for not giving him more men. Me, his friend, who only wanted the best for our cause and who did not want him to die on a battlefield simply because he is a cripple!" 

Towards the end, Washington was almost yelling. Lafayette could not remember seeing him this enraged since Lee's misconduct at Monmouth Courthouse. 

"None of this was your fault, _mon général,_ Arnold made this decision for himself," Lafayette said, hoping that his words would do at least something to soothe Washington. He stopped pacing for a moment when he heard Lafayette speak, but then he resumed his senseless walking. 

"Does it really matter whose fault it is?" Washington asked. "Benedict, he - he is gone, this damned fool, he tricked us all. Who knows how long he had been plotting his escape!" 

Finally, Washington sat down again and Lafayette exhaled in relief. Watching him pace had been quite unnerving. It did not take long, however, until his friend had found another reason to worry even more. 

"Lafayette, what will happen to our alliance now? Your countrymen, they will think that our curse is doomed if even the Generals start to desert." 

He was looking at Lafayette as though he alone could decide how the French would react to Arnold's treason and Lafayette felt the weight of the responsibility he was bearing even heavier than usual on his shoulders. 

"I shall write to our allies, come morning. But I assure you, I will be able to convince them that Arnold is an absolute exception and that he does not represent the rest of this cause," he offered. Washington nodded in response, but the troubled expression on his face did not vanish. 

Suddenly, he rose to his feet again, this time walking over to the window on the far side of the room. He remained standing there with his back toward Lafayette, and stared out into the night. Lafayette could only guess what he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking of Arnold, who by now was with the British Army. Or maybe he thought of his men who were currently preparing for another harsh winter. 

No matter what it was that Washington was thinking of, to Lafayette he looked terribly lost and lonely like this. Arnold's treason had managed to break his adoptive father's spirit. Lafayette swore to himself that he was going to do everything in his power to make the turncoat pay for it. But now was not the time to be angry, Lafayette knew. Washington did not need more anger to add to his own; he needed consolation and somebody able to calm him. 

Lafayette got up quietly and crossed the room, until he came to stand side by side with Washington. His friend did not react to his presence but kept staring into the darkness. Lafayette could see two guards standing at the front door below them, illuminated by the dim light of two torches. Aside from them, there was nothing to be seen outside. 

It was just now that Lafayette noticed that Washington had turned his head toward him, watching him. His expression was a strange mixture of pain and affection and Lafayette did not quite know what to make of that. 

"My dear boy," Washington finally said, his voice heavy with emotion, "what would I do without you?" 

Lafayette attempted to cover up the feelings his words stirred inside him with a smile. "I presume you would lead an army as you do now, _mon général,_ and you would win a war, as you will now," he said, although he did not want to picture a world in which Washington and he had never met. 

Washington turned toward him, the pain in his expression even more obvious than before. "No, no I would not. Without you, I would have been replaced a long time ago. Damn it, without you, I would not be half the man I am now."

Lafayette could not help his eyes widen at this statement. This was probably the most emotive thing Washington had ever told him in the over three years of their friendship and it made Lafayette's heart both ache and jump at the same time. He had known that Washington held him dear to his heart, but to hear it from him was different.

His reaction to the General's words was cut short, however, when Washington grabbed his upper arm, looking at him with an urgency Lafayette had seldom seen in him. 

"You can never desert me, Lafayette, I could not bear it. Anyone, anyone but not you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

For a brief second, Lafayette was confused, almost angered, by the thought of Washington believing that he would simply desert him. But then he understood that he was terrified of another friend turning on him, and this time not only a friend but the man he considered his adoptive son. 

"I promise to you that I have never entertained such thoughts, not once in all the time I have spent here." Lafayette made sure Washington was looking him in the eyes as he spoke, wanting him to understand that he meant every word he said. "My place is with you, as fate has decided long ago, and I shall never leave your side as long as you would have me there." 

Lafayette did not have to think about his words. He simply expressed what his heart told him to. Apparently, his words had been he rights ones to say. As a response, Washington simply pulled him into an embrace. 

"Thank you," Lafayette heard him mumble against his shoulder and he could not help but smile just a little, despite the severity of the situation. Somehow, at least for the moment, Arnold was not of import any longer. What mattered was that they had each other, and no traitor would change that. 

Lafayette stayed with Washington almost the entire night. They talked about everything that came to their minds, as they often did, and this was the best cure for the bitter wound inflicted to them by Arnold's betrayal. When Lafayette finally slipped into his own room after Washington had fallen asleep, faint traces of sunlight already started to appear at the horizon. 


End file.
